Measure of Love
by ATTHS
Summary: A mysterious card spans the years, until it is opened, and the words inside are tattooed upon a heart.


The plain white envelope sat on the desk, a name not written upon it. Scully's eyes were drawn to it, wondering why it was there and who it was for. It was standard greeting card size, but it was not her birthday, nor was it Mulder's either. Of course that did not matter, as he very rarely remembered it was hers and hated to celebrate his own, and so it intrigued her.

She picked it up, and finding it sealed, she knew she could not open it without arousing suspicion, especially if it was not for her. He would tease her mercilessly, feigning shock that she would open something meant for him. Setting it back down, she stepped away from his desk and left the room to meet him for lunch, her mind continuing to wonder.

* * *

Lying naked in his bed, his arm wrapped around her waist and his head at her breast as he breathed deeply, she sighed and closed her eyes. These moments with him, as few as they have had, were the ones when she felt whole and complete. Since the first time, it had felt right, exactly as it should have been.

He shifted and sighed in his sleep, pulling her closer, murmuring her name. She smiled, feeling utterly and wholefully loved by him. Not simply as she had been by his kiss, his touch, and the joining of their bodies, but because she always had. Even from the beginning, when it was small and quiet, it was there. Coming together, in more ways than one, had been a natural progression. Slow as it may have been, it was their journey, and she would not have altered a step.

"Sleep, Scully," he whispered and she smiled again. "Stop thinking so loudly."

"Not thinking exactly, just…"

"Hmmm," he answered, turning and pulling her in, limbs tangled and breaths intermingling. She fell silent, breathing in his scent, memorizing the rise and fall of his chest, the way it felt against her cheek. His leg brushed hers and he hummed. "You're so goddamn soft, Scully. How is it possible for skin to feel like silk?"

She hummed and chuckled, suddenly exhausted, wanting nothing more than to sleep in his arms, to stay in the warm bed forever. "Sleep, Mulder," she breathed and he laughed quietly. He ran his fingers up and down her back so softly, she could not know for certain if he was truly touching her.

His breathing slowed and his fingers ceased to move. Snuggling in closer, she matched her breaths to his, drowning in the sensory overload of Mulder all around her.

* * *

The white envelope was on his dining room table, almost as though it was thrown down as an afterthought and with no concern. Standing there without him, the shower running in the bathroom, she was tempted to take it and then open it when she was home alone. She could find another envelope to replace it. Hell, she probably had one amid the drawers of Christmas cards she bought, fully intending to send, but never did.

As she reached to take it, he called her name and she was powerless to ignore it, her hands already reaching to lift her shirt, well his shirt really, over her head to join him in the shower. She dropped it on the floor, her panties following, as she went to surrender herself to his touch once more.

* * *

Sobbing, her heart feeling as though it truly might break or had already broken, she could no longer differentiate between the feeling, she lay once more in his bed.

Alone.

It had been days of fruitless searching and hot dry winds. She had been thrown around, left with cuts and bruises, and breaking down in front of her new and unwanted "partner."

She hated leaving and coming home without him, sure they were close but knowing she had to think of herself and the baby.

The apartment was smelling stale, the air thick and warm, but she did not want to open the windows. Logic no longer prevailed as she thought that the air she was currently gulping in, was the air Mulder had breathed. The last air they had breathed together.

Wrapping herself in the blankets, laying on his pillow, she placed her hand on her still flat stomach, crying softly.

"Mulder… oh Mulder…" she whispered, closing her eyes, feeling cold without his arms around her. "Please, Mulder… please."

She cried herself to sleep and the next morning she opened the windows, eyes closed, tears on her face, imagining her cries and pleas being pulled from the apartment and reaching his ears.

Wherever he may be.

* * *

She stood in his apartment, belly heavy with their child, and shook her head. Months had gone by. Mulder… gone and never coming back, and yet… she could not let go of his apartment. Not when this was _his_ place, where they shared so much, and then… She rubbed her stomach, feeling the baby moving around, and she sighed.

The guys had been over earlier and helped her clean, not wanting it to remain a mess, regardless if Mulder would be back. Byers continually stopped her from doing too much and even though she protested, she appreciated his concern. Langly was efficient and awkward while Frohike's sad eyes followed her everywhere.

Walking around the rooms, she could hear his laugh as she made a joke, see his anger over her not listening to his theories, and as she stood in the doorway of his bedroom, she saw them learning to love each other. Physical love now expressed where it had previously been only through looks and brief touches.

"Not enough," she whispered, tears falling down her face. "We didn't have enough time. So much of it was wasted denying what we both wanted. God, Mulder…" Wiping her eyes, she shook her head and turned around.

She stepped over by the desk and fed the fish. As she made to leave, an envelope caught her eye and she gasped. It had been months since she had thought of it, the small square object not high on her list of priorities.

Picking it up, she knew she could not open it, not now. What if it was not for her? What if it was for Mulder from some woman she did not know and…? But, what if it _was_ for her and seeing what was inside broke her heart anew?

She set the envelope down, her heart and body heavy, the ache for him so intense she knew it would never abate. Looking around again, she sighed. It was now _too_ clean, and it made her uneasy, needing to get away from the unfamiliar apartment.

As she closed the door, she looked at the room one more time, the dust floating and settling in the late afternoon light. She saw him there, his hands wide as he excitedly explained a theory, a smile on his face.

"Goodbye, Mulder. I'll be back soon. I… I love you." Closing the door, she locked it, touching her lips and then the 42. A hand on her belly, she slowly walked down the hall, the echo of his footsteps ringing in her ears.

* * *

"I don't remember everything that happened to me," he whispered as he held her, the apartment once again cluttered and smelling of him, his presence larger than life.

Life. _Alive_.

Her hand moved to his chest, needing to feel his heart beating, despite the fact that she was held within his arms. Her protruding stomach did not allow them to be as close as before, but she did not care.

_Thump thump thump._

The steady beat brought tears to her eyes, sure she would never feel it again. Moving her hand up, she grasped the back of his neck, burrowing her nose under his jaw. His face was scratchy, him too tired to shave, and her not caring if he did. She welcomed the feel of it, further tactile proof that he was there, scratchy face and all.

"I know you want to know, Mulder. But I… I don't care what happened, I just care that you're _here_. You're _alive_. Mulder… watching you being put into the ground… I… there are not words to express it." She pulled him as close as she could and he did the same, breathing her name.

"I love you," she whispered, not caring if he said it back, not needing to hear it, but needing it to be heard.

"Oh Scully, I love you so much," he whispered and she cried as she felt him doing the same. "I've been such an asshole to you, when I shouldn't have been, and I'm sorry, I just…" She sniffed and nodded, then pulled back to look at him.

"Yes, you were," she said, and he nodded. "But Jesus Christ, Mulder, look at what you had been through-"

"And you, Scully. Jesus…" He shook his head and she stopped him, holding his head still, her thumb grazing his rough cheek.

"You're here, Mulder. _We're_ here. That's all I need." He stared at her and nodded. Moving her thumb to his lips, she ran it across them slowly, stopping in the middle. He kissed it, and then her lips, pulling her closer and whispering his love once again.

* * *

William was asleep, the apartment quiet. Scully walked into the living room and found Mulder sitting at her desk, shutting the drawer with a sigh.

"Did you need something?" she asked and he shook his head, standing up and turning around. Smiling, he stepped close to her and looked into her eyes.

"No, my needs are met," he said quietly, reaching for her hands.

"Mulder…" she began, so many things she wanted to say, but he shook his head.

"Not tonight."

"It's all we have," she whispered, very aware of the suitcases sitting in the room, the ones he would take and the ones he would be leaving behind.

"I know," he whispered with a nod, and those two words held meaning beyond that moment. He squeezed her hands and pulled her close, his arms around her. "I know, Scully."

Closing her eyes, she relaxed into his embrace.

* * *

She knew that somewhere in her desk drawer she had stamps, but she could not find them under all the papers inside. The drawers were normally organized and clean, but with Mulder adding some of his own papers and her being tired with William, some things had taken a backseat.

Sighing, she looked once more in the top drawer, taking out the papers within and searching between them for the rogue stamps. Making a pile, she came upon an envelope; a square greeting card sized envelope that had been taped shut. Turning it over, she saw her name written on it in Mulder's scrawl.

Her heart raced as she realized that this was _the_ card. The card with the previously unnamed envelope that had piqued her curiosity long ago. Staring at his familiar handwriting, tears filled her eyes. She missed him so much. Sliding her finger carefully under the tape, she lifted the flap and took out the card inside.

It was a card of dark inky blue, golden stars all over it, a giant round yellow moon in the middle, a rocket ship orbiting beside it along with a small yellow heart. Laughing as she cried, she read the words written upon it.

"Love you…" It said at the top. "To the moon…" Inside the moon. "And back…" At the bottom.

"Oh, Mulder." She shook her head and wiped her eyes.

Opening the card, she saw his handwriting covering every inch of the once blank card. The left side was dated as the day before he left and the right was over a year before it. Starting with the right hand side, her vision slightly blurry, she began to read.

_Scully_

_I want to both give this to you privately and while I stand in front of you. I want to see your eyes roll as you read the front, knowing it seems silly and over the top, or over the moon as it were. But I am also aware that beneath the silly words and way I may behave and joke as you read this, there is an underlying truth to what this card says. I do love you, Scully. I have loved you in some capacity since the moment you listened to me and did not run for the hills, never to be seen again. You gave me credibility when others saw nothing but an alien obsessed man, his theories and approach out there among the stars. How could I be considered too crazy if **you** stuck by my side, my one constant in this world. If I ever do give this to you, I hope I have the nerve to do it standing face-to-face._

_Mulder_

Setting the card down, she sobbed into her hands, his love washing over her. It was so new then, she could understand his hesitation. But it was also not new, just as he described. He had loved her and she had loved him for so long, yet they denied themselves what they wanted most - to be together.

Wiping her eyes, she picked up the card and took a deep breath, knowing these words would be harder to read and might possibly leave her broken beyond repair.

_Scully_

_I sit here at your desk, listening to you feeding William, your voice soothing his small cries, reading my own words from what feels like an eternity ago. Much has changed, but not my love for you. Never that. As I packed my things, preparing to start our life together, I found this card that I bought on a whim and decided to write out my thoughts and feelings thinking I was being brave, and yet I never gave it to you. I brought it to the office, brought it home, both places I knew you would be, and yet, my nerve failed me. You were in my bed, in my heart, and yet I could not hand you a card with my words of love written within. What a coward I was, Scully, to be afraid of telling you how I feel._

_I love you, Scully. To the moon and back and back again. Forever and always._

_Mulder_

She held the open card to her chest, wishing the ink he used could be absorbed, his love written on her heart, his love pumping in her veins. Pulling it back, she read his words again, touching the words with her fingers, the proof of his love written for eternity.

A cry cut through the silence and she gave a shaky laugh as further proof of his love called for her attention. Wiping her eyes again, she put the card back in the envelope, touched her name written across it, and placed it at the top of the papers in the drawer. Mulder put it there before he left, and there it would stay until he came home and claimed what had been his since the first day she walked into his office.

Her heart.


End file.
